Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-02-10

afraid sometimes that II thunderbul
would fall and destroy him and thel
again | was afraid that he would DESTROY
himself. | don't know how we eveI
contIiyed to get him to let Louie bt
placed in her casket, and | thought ht
would jump into the very grave itself.
But at last that agoniZing time, every
moment of which knows how to give a
fresh stab. was over, and the worsf
time came of the absence and silence
and wild, vain, bitter longing. And
Dennis couldn't look at the baby.
Take it away !" he said. at killed
her !" So took him into my own
room, and cuddled him close TO my
heart every night, and every night, and
every morning he awoke me with his
laughing and gurgling and growing,
playing with the shadows of the dan
cling leaves across the bed and he had
Louie's yellow hair and rosy cheek and
perfect features, her great, longing
blue eyes and Dennis black eyebrows ;
and every day he grew dearer and dear
er, and more inexpressblY dear. and |
said to myself that, much as | missed
poor Louie, here had been made up to
me all | had failed of in my life for
this child was to take the place to me
of mother and sister and husband and
child altogether. And the dearer he
grew, the more angry l became with
Dennis for his indifference +; and one
day, when the boy was about four
months old, said TO Dennis
81 think you had better let old Nan
cy come in again and do your chores,
the way she used to do, and | will go
away and take the baby"
Take the baby ?"
Certainly" l said. You can't
bear the sight of him, and love him.
And then if you ever marry again"-
81 shall never marry again." he said,
the gloom settling in his eyes.
II don't believe you will ]" l ex-
claimed. 81 don't believe there's the
woman living who will ever take such
an unnatural, wicked father for her
husband Louie's own child, too, and
the very image of her. wonder what
she'd think of you - Aud | snatched
the baby up out of the cradle, and ran
from the room, lest should break out
crying before his face.
The next afternoon when Dennis
Ga2g1e in RtfIE54gm tfIE54gm his work. he .WeQt- aDd
clothes, and came down ID where l
stood in the side door with the baby In
my arms, looking at the sunset. And he
stopped to take the child; and the little
darling turned, with low, frightened
cry, and hid his face IN my neck. And
then. all at once the tears that | had
not seen Dennis cry in all this time,
gushed out, and he pat his arms around
the child, who began to scream with
terror. and as | half turned and main
tained my own hold, he took him for
cibly away from me. Let go ~ he
said. in his low half smothered tone.
Hes my child -
81 suppose he is ~ cried. by
some wicked form of law, the cruel law
that men made for men. But you
don't deserve him. You helped him to
life. but | should like to know how
much life he would have now, if it had
rested with you ?"
never was so angry. l thought /
would take my things and 60 away
that moment. But how could | leave
the baby ? His little screams were
torturing me then. sat down on the
doorstone and flung my apron over my
head. and put my thumbs in my ears,
and wished the baby and l were dead
along with Louie.
Perhaps, it was an hour afterward
when | looked up, and there was Den
his coming through the orchard with
the baby, and the boy was growing and
jumping and catching at the bending
boughs, and catching at his fathers
great mustache, and rubbing his little
wet lips all oyer Dennis face, chirIup-
ing and joyous and l couldn't help it,
ran to meet them.
"You see," said Dennis, as he let me
have him back, "blood is thicker thar
water, after ALL"
Oh what long journey | felt as il
that baby had been on as | took hin
and could hardly haye done kissing
him.
Come" said Dennis, laughing
"leave something of him for me-"
1t was the first time he had laughed
since the child was born. And the darlin!
had gone long journey-a journey in
to the infinite depths of father
, heart.
Well, after that, Dennis couldn't &c
home early enough in the afternoon
| and it seemed as if he hated to 60 ava
in the morning, and Sundays he ha
{ the baby In his arms from morning Il
f night. And in the evening when | SO
u